Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-01-01
LOS ANGELES DAILY HERALD, JANUARY l. 1887

bless thee. Eh, shipjack, there was fine music
to thy dancing. A dollar for an ounce-'tis
a. good as silver, and merrier." Yet for all
his good spirits he kept sharp lookout at
certain bends Of the mountain trail; not for
assassins or brigands, for Concho was physi-
cally courageous, but for the Evil one, who, in
various forms, was said to lurk in the Santa
Cruz range, to the great discomfort Of all true
Catholics He recalled the incident of Igna-
cio, a li-...u.Uvr OF the franciscan friars, who,
stopping at the Angelus to repeat the credo,
saw Luzbel plainly in the Likeness Of mon
strous grizzly bear, mocking him by sitting
on his Launches and lifting his paws, clasped
together, as If in prayer. Nevertheless, with
one hand grasping the reins and his rosary
and the other clutching his whisky flask and
revolver, he Jared ON 90 rapidly that he
reached the summit as the earlier streals Of
dawn were outlining the far-of Sierran
peaks lettering his horse on a strip Of
table land, he descended cautiously afoot un-
til he reached the bench, the wall Of red rock
and the crumbled and dismantled furnace It
was as he had left it that morning; there was
no trace Of recent human visitation. Revolver
in hand, Concho examined every cave, gully
and recess, peered behind trees, penetrated
copses of buckeye and manzanita and listened.
There was no sounc hut the faint soughing
Of the wind over the pines below him. For Q
while he paced backward and forward with
vague sense of being a sentinel, but his mer-
curial nature soon rebeled against this mo-
notony, and soon the fatigues of the day began
to tell upon him. Recourse to his whisky
flask only made him the drowsier, until at
last he was fain to lie down and roll himself
up tightly in his blanket. The next moment
he was sound asleep.
His horse neighed twice from the summit,
but Concho heard him not Then the brush
cracked on the ledge above him, small frag-
ment of rock rolled near his feet, but he stirred
not. And then two black figures were out
lined on the crags beyond.
"St-tt!" whispered a voice. "There is one
lying beside the furnace" The speech was
Spanish, but the voice was Wiles'.
The other figure crept cautiously to the
edge of the crag and looked over. at is
Concho, the imbecile, said Pedro, contemptu-
ously
"But if he should not be alone, or if he
should wakens"
II will watch and wait Go you and affix
the notification"
Wiles disappeared. Pedro began to creep
down the face of the rocky ledge, supporting
himself by chemisal and brushwood.
The next moment Pedro stood beside the
unconscious man. Then he looked cautiously
around. The figure of his companion was
lost in the shadow of the rocks above; only a
slight crackle of brush betrayed his where
abouts. Suddenly Pedro flung his serape
over the sleepers head, and then threw his
powerful frame and tremendous weight full
upon Concho's upturned face, while his strong
arms clasped the blanket pinioned limbs of
his victim. There was momentary up-
heaval, a spasm and struggle; but the
tightly rolled blanket clung to the unfortu-
nate man like cerements.
There was no noise, no outcry, no sound of
struggle. There was nothing to be seen but
the peaceful, prostrate figures Of the two men
darkly outlined on the ledge. They might
have been sleeping ia each others arms In
the black silence the stealthy tread Of Wiles
in the bush above was distinctly audible.
Gradually the struggles grew fainter. Then
whisper from the crags:
II can't see you What are you doingw
aWatching"
"Sleeps he?"
"He sleepsl'
"Soundly?"
"Soundly."
"After the manner of the dead"
"After the fashion of the dead"
The last tremor had ceased. Pedro rose q
Wiles descended
"All is ready" said wiles; syou are wit
ness Of my placing the notihcationsr
II am q witness
"But of this onel" pointing to Concho
aShall we leave him here7"
"A drunken imbecile-why noti'
Wiles turned his left eye on the speaker.
They CHANGED to be standing nearly in tho
same attitude they had stood the preceding
night Pedro uttered q cry and an i'm, ,ca-
ton, "Carrambal Take your DEVILS eye from
mel What see youi Eh-whatr
Notnih8, eooo 1eoVs saio WI ueSs turning
his blank right cheek to Pedro. The in
furiated and half frightened ex-vaquero re-
turned the long knife he had half drawn from
its sheath, and growled surAly:
,i|sss -
~; ;;4}|>z:lSS% q ts%
&E SyTgWN